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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26278699">Diary of a Fledgling Mangaka</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerShinigami/pseuds/TigerShinigami'>TigerShinigami</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bleach</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Artist's Block, Humor, Manga Artist, One Shot, Superheroes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:34:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,410</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26278699</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerShinigami/pseuds/TigerShinigami</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shinigami make for excellent superheroes, it turns out. Especially for a desperate manga artist.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kuchiki Rukia &amp; Kurosaki Ichigo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Diary of a Fledgling Mangaka</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally beta-read by Quel Zune and posted in 2008. Updated and revised in 2020.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Batman was in trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was trapped- Lex Luthor had been one step ahead the entire time, and now the cunning Superhero had nowhere to run, no options left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You cannot escape, Batman!" Lex shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We'll see about that," Batman said. He used his bat-hook to swing himself high into the air, flying straight into Lex Luthor and knocking him down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No!" Lex said as he was defeated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Kobayashi!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The adventure was shattered before Nobuya’s eyes, and he suddenly found himself in his office playing with his action figures. He hurriedly shoved the Batman and Lex Luthor action figures into a drawer, jamming it shut a mere second before his boss entered the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobuya timidly looked up from his drawing table and seemed to shrink into his chair. "Yes, sir?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His editor, a balding man in his mid-30's, glared down at him. "What is this? This- this trash? This filth?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kobayashi looked at the papers his boss held up, shoving them into his face. "…why, it's a superhero, sir. You know, just like the American comics-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Superhero or not, this sort of thing just isn't going to cut it! Everyone I've talked to think the same thing- there's no way people will go for this. It just isn't going to cut it!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The younger man gave out a sigh. The room was silent, save for the 'Don Kanonji Radio Special' playing dully in the background. "Sorry, Sir. I'll… come up with something else."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, folding his arms. "It had better be something good, Kobayashi, or you'll be lucky to have a job by next week." With that, he left the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kobayashi Nobuya: Fledgling Mangaka. The young man wearing a baggy, nondescript T-shirt and pants that were a bit too short for him, slumped in his chair and stared at his drawing board. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t understand what was wrong with his latest work. Superheros were always fascinating, each with their own unique powers and abilities, always wanting to help those in need… since a small child, he'd been captivated by them. Everyone around him figured it was a phase that came with being a kid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It never ended. Not for him. Here he was, 25 years old, and still just as amazed at them as ever. Nothing could come between him and his favorite superheros- Superman! Batman! Spiderman! Hawkgirl! Iron Man! If only people like that could be real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried making superheros of his own, featuring them in his manga, though without success. He didn't understand it. How could people </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> like MosquitoMan? He was brave, amazingly intelligent, and had the superpowers to back it up. He wasn't a normal person by any means, as he had the head of a large Mosquito.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobuya scratched his head, wondering. He just couldn’t understand other people, sometimes.  He sighed and focused again on his drawing board. The bright emptiness seemed to taunt him like it always had. It wasn’t a blank canvas of creative possibilities anymore. It was a wide, empty void that judged him and caused fear. Whatever he came up with had to really be something… something </span>
  <em>
    <span>big</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand started to work, beginning with rough ovals and curves, slowly turning into a male figure with large muscles, and cape billowing out behind him. He started to draw in various design elements to the costume, experimenting with the addition of animal ears, tails, and finally wings. He sighed, shaking his head. It just wasn't coming to him. Inspiration, like other things, just couldn't be forced- he wasn't going to get anything done that day. Better he head home and try again tomorrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mom! I'm back!" He said, sliding off his shoes by the door. His dear mother, an aging creature with grey and partially styled hair, sat on the couch thoroughly engrossed in some sort of reality television show. A playful 'Bark!' greeted him, as his small Corgi came running up to him, panting and jumping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobuya proceeded up into the kitchen and started to prepare dinner early.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How is your latest work doing, dear?" His mother called from the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine, Mom," He duly answered, much in the way he would when she questioned him about school those years back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm so proud of you, you know." She continued. "It's a good thing you didn't do as my sister did- going off to be some sort of ghost hunter. A good solid job is the best thing a young man such as yourself can get."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed. He only hoped it was something he could keep. "Yes, Mom."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, sleep didn't come easily for him. He tossed and turned, wondering about his next work- what it would be, how would he do it? What could draw the readers in, something they would read and not laugh at it? His thoughts turned to his dismal future where he would be out of a job and left to Mother's badgering. Somehow during this, he drifted off to an equally troubled sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His solace didn't last long, however, as high-pitched crying noises woke him. He opened his eyes and strained to see in the darkness. His dog, Bruce, was crying, obviously needing a trip to the bathroom. He bent over to look at the alarm clock. He realized with frustration it read 3:15. Nobuya let out a small moan before finally getting up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nighttime air was chilly, biting at his skin as he walked outside, Bruce's leash in hand. He stood patiently as his pet relieved itself in the grass. Nobuya stifled a yawn, struggling to keep his eyes open. The sound of voices, clear, loud, and distinct, soon gained his attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Argh! Do we have to do this?" A male voice whined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second voice was female, though slightly harsh and very commanding. "Yes! Stop complaining."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobuya looked over and blinked in an attempt to clear his vision. Running down his very street was a pair of teenagers, dressed in what looked to be the black kimonos and hakama. He blinked, staring with his mouth hanging open slightly as he watched in confusion. The boy, he noticed, had bright orange hair with a sword almost as tall as he was. They ran down the pavement and jumped unusually high in the air. Suddenly, a giant monster appeared, roaring and slashing about. The two people attacked it, jumping, skidding, and landing in mid-air throughout the fight, while the orange-haired boy sent out attacks in the form of bright arcs of light from his sword. It wasn't long before the monster was defeated, dissolving away into nothingness, and the two people mysteriously disappeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobuya yawned, checked to see if Bruce was done, and stumbled back inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day he woke and prepared for work as usual. After feeding Mother he left the house just like he normally did, this time with the sense of impending doom hanging over his head. Thoughts of joblessness swirled in his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Several minutes later he was sitting at his desk and staring blankly at the empty drawing board.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts drifted, thinking over his grim future, and how he would explain it to Mother. It would break her poor heart when she heard the news about his job. With a sigh, he lowered his head onto the board, his eyes shutting in frustration. He was tired already- what sleep he got the night before had been restless. Then there was the strange dream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dream. Images came back to him then, blurred and scattered, but he managed to grasp at them before they disappeared into his subconscious. He bolted upright in his seat and grasped for his pencil, starting to scribble notes onto the paper as fast as he could, eager to capture and trap the images before they disappeared from his mind. Then he started to sketch- first generic shapes, then scenes. Off to the side he started a larger image that dominated the others. The lines were bolder, more confident. The image of a young man with bright orange hair, merely a teenager, wearing traditional kimono clothing… and a sword nearly as tall as he was, one large enough for enemies to cower in fear.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobuya's eyes lit up, suddenly looking down at the paper with enthusiasm. His hand started to work, the ovals and curves slowly turning into fabric, folds of cloth, a handsome young face and spiked hair. He looked down at his new character, a smile making its way to Nobuya’s face. He had a good feeling about this one- something just seemed </span>
  <em>
    <span>right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked over the design again, thinking it a bit simplistic. He added sharp, aggressive looking designs to the sword, as well as a pair of daggers along the boy's sides. He added a simple black mask that covered the upper portion of his face, masking his identity, as he pretended to be a normal person during the day in society. A student, even. Then, at his side, worn on the left arm, was a magic, see-through shield that would help fight off the attacks of enemies. The character stood there on the page, poised and ready to fight crime, a confident smirk on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobuya frowned. Something was still missing, he thought. But what was it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly it came to him, an obvious notion that he shouldn't have struggled with in the first place. It was so obvious, really! Carefully, he leaned forward, penciling in a large, flowing back cape behind the character, one that would fly with the courageous, muscular superhero as he soared above the city below.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now… what to call him?" He said. The boy on the page looked at him with a sort of intense stare. Already the character had a very distinguished feel to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The Vanquisher!" He tested the name on his tongue. The character was commanding, and he was a superhero that would let no evil stand in his way, no matter how powerful they were. Then there was the sidekick, a short girl with black hair, who would bicker with him as they fought side by side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobuya smiled and stretched his fingers before getting to work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was only 2 months later, and Nobuya's life had undergone some drastic changes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His manga- "The Vanquisher" had gained the attention of some higher-ups in the manga business. His editor had tried feebly to keep him under his employ, but Nobuya had eagerly taken the new job. Now his work was in the best place it could possibly be- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shounen Jump</span>
  </em>
  <span>. People of all ages were enjoying his work, all while action figures, wall-scrolls, key-chains and more were being sold featuring his characters.The Vanquisher was a character everyone loved, as he was mysterious and cunning, though always did the right thing in the face of danger. There were rumors of a possible anime show to be put into the works, and the idea excited Nobuya even more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, one strange day, two teenagers appeared on his doorstep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can I help you?" He asked, looking at them. One of them was a teenage boy with bright orange hair, a scowl on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes… are you Kobayashi Nobuya?" The short raven-haired girl next to him asked, reading off of a small sheet of paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowned. They sure seemed serious. "Yeah, that's me." He looked at them again, trying to figure out what the problem was. "Is there something wrong?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl cast a sideways glance at her friend who had stuffed his hands deeply into his pockets, and seemed to struggle with something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Could we go inside, sir? I think there's something we need to talk to you about,” she asked politely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at them, when finally it registered. "Oh! Wait, I know why you're here! Of course- come on in." He opened the door, welcoming them inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat down at the kitchen table, as his mother was in the living room. "I'm so glad to see you here." He said, smiling at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl blinked. "You are?" She seemed surprised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course! I never thought… I never dreamed-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, it is a bit hard to explain…" She admitted. She pulled out a sketchbook from her bag, intent on opening it. "It could best be described as-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I never dreamed in a million years people would </span>
  <em>
    <span>cosplay</span>
  </em>
  <span> my work!" Nobuya said, standing up from his seat and moving about the room, his excitement impossible to contain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The raven-haired girl froze in mid-action, before the sketch pad could be fully opened. "E-excuse me?" She said in a small voice. The boy next to her, who looked rather constipated, Kobuya thought, still had the strained look on his face, who sat with folded arms and looked off to the side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's so great to see fans!" Kobuya continued. "The success of "</span>
  <em>
    <span>The Vanquisher</span>
  </em>
  <span>" really turned things around. I was on the verge of losing my job before…" (He said the last part softer, so his mother wouldn't hear,) "…But now things are great. I can afford to have her taken care of properly, and won't have to worry about how to feed her anymore like I used to when money was tight," He grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And it's all thanks to fans like you! I can't thank you enough." He finished, patting them both on the shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy's expression had changed, and he had loosened his posture. The two teenagers looked at each other for a moment, coming to some sort of silent agreement. The boy finally let out a resigned sigh, looking down at the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah… we're big fans…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl seemed to be considering something, before finally looking up. "…could I have an autographed copy?" She asked thoughtfully</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobuya happily complied. He led them to the door, seeing them off. "Feel free to stop by any time!" He said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The orange haired boy, who's name was Ichigo, he learned- turned to him. "Hey- one suggestion… for your manga." He said reluctantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobuya thought it a bit odd, but listened carefully nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How 'bout you write in a stuck-up, nerdy archer as a sidekick?" Ichigo smirked, slinging his book-bag over his shoulder with one hand. He seemed amused by the suggestion, somehow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll see what I can do," Nobuya said, chuckling slightly to himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One thing was for certain: with fans like Ichigo supporting his work, the adventures of </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Vanquisher</span>
  </em>
  <span> would go on for a very long time.</span>
</p>
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